


aut inveniam viam aut faciam

by helenblqckthorn



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Communication, Faerie Magic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Reunions, bamf!kit, basically my take on the wicked powers, feat. bb carstairs!!, post queen of air and darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 15:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17144537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenblqckthorn/pseuds/helenblqckthorn
Summary: “Oh,God.” Kit said, despairingly. “I have acrushonTy Blackthorn."“Finally!” Willow threw her arms up in the air in exasperation.aka; my take on The Kitty Reunion tm, and the start of The Wicked Powers





	aut inveniam viam aut faciam

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally the most self indulgent thing i've written,,,  
> anyway enjoy this fic!! i hope it fills your heart after the gaping hole left by kitty in qoaad  
> title means: i'll either find a way, or make one
> 
> nb; the three enemy fighters aren't just random, i have a plan to expand on that plot on what i think twp will entail, so don't think it's me just grabbing at straws ajksadj they're significant

_Thunk_.

 _Thunk_.

_Thu—_

The throwing knife fell short of the brightly coloured target, clattering to the training room ground with a sound that made both occupants of the room wince.

“Focus, Tavvy!” Dru chided her brother, shaking her head as she went to retrieve the fallen blade. She yanked the other knives out of the target that had been thrown successfully, and handed them to her brother, who pouted in an unimpressed fashion, and took them.

“How long is this going to go on for?” He complained whilst extending his arm behind him to aim for the target. Dru raised her eyebrows, clearly feeling the superiority that came with teaching one’s younger sibling something that one has mastered.

“However long it takes you to hit five bullseye’s in a row.”

Tavvy’s answering groan was so long and drawn out, Dru felt it vibrate in the ground beneath her.

She had taken on the task of training Tavvy to master throwing knives, an area in physical training he seemed to be falling behind in. Diana had thought it would be a good idea for some quote-unquote “sibling bonding time” within the training room, and seeing as Dru was the only one who had recently trained with these particular weapons—Aline, Helen, Emma and Julian having already chosen their trademark weapons and stuck with them—she was the ideal candidate.

Plus, she liked spending time with Tavvy. He’d outgrown his annoying, agitating phase a few months ago, and had in turn gained something more grown up. It was fun to prank Julian by switching out his paints, fun to complain about how boring the political discussions were that occured at any point when any guest was over at the dinner table, fun to watch terrible movies and point out all the flaws it held.

Most of all, it was fun to show her brother the way, in small gestures like training sessions—or coaching him on how to approach some of the mundane boys in the neighbourhood to ask if he could join in with their soccer games. It filled her with a sense of pride, of fulfillment that she was the one that he confided in, that she was the big sister that he bragged about to Rafael and Max.

“Four in a row!” Tavvy announced triumphantly, gearing himself up for the final throw.

She stood behind him, hands on her hips, ready to fistbump him and then head downstairs for whatever lunch was emitting that delicious smell that was wafting into the room, when a large boom echoed through the Institute and rattled the windows, causing some of the weapons to fall off the racks.

She and Tavvy looked at each other for a frozen moment, wide-eyed.

 _“Ty’s back!_ ” They screamed at each other in unison, running for the door, almost tripping over the mats in the process. Together they skidded along the halls, falling both into each other and the walls at various points.

At last, they came to the head of the stairs, and shrieked upon seeing Ty in the entryway, who jumped in surprise, but then broke out into a animated smile when he saw the source of the noise. Dru pelted down the stairs to greet her brother, leaping the last few steps.

Dru spread her hands as an invitation for an embrace—always a choice, never a demand—and smiled ear-to-ear when Ty accepted the offer, folding his arms around her. She squeezed back, applying a sort of tightness to their hug.

“You’ve gotten so tall,” Dru said, muffled, into his ear, for she was having to reach him on her tip-toes.

Ty laughed quietly. “I think you’re just short, Dru.”

She pulled away from him, gasping in a mock-offended fashion, and reached up to ruffle his unruly black hair. “Tiberius! I’m hurt.”

He shook his head at her, grinning, and it warmed her heart to see him this happy and carefree. There had been a time where he had been happy—but it had been underlined with melancholy, and she’d seen it in the set of his shoulder, seen it when Tessa or Jem were mentioned, seen it in the glances at what Dru supposed was Livvy’s ghost.

There were always sharp twinges in her chest when she caught those glimpses, knowing that Livvy was  _there_ , but at the same time wasn’t. She was caught between longing to see her sister’s face once more, and knowing it would ruin her, and keep her longing for more than she should.

She didn’t know how Ty could bear it. Two extremes of emotion—relief and happiness, aching sadness constantly at war within him whenever she was present.

Tavvy barrelled towards Ty with a surprising amount of speed, throwing himself at Ty’s waist, for that was how high he could reach. Ty staggered back at the amount of force, chuckling and running a hand through his younger brother’s hair. “Good to see you, Tavs.”

“I missed you so much!”

“I was only gone for seven months.”

_“Exactly!”_

The elder two giggled at the dramatics Tavvy was displaying, sharing a look of sibling exasperation.

The door the the kitchen and dining room area burst open, and Aline, Helen, Julian and Emma swept out into the main entryway like a flood, and exclamations and greetings punched the air. There were infinite rufflings of hair, embraces and comments on how tall and handsome he’d become. Ty looked a little bemused by that, and Dru let out a peal of laughter.

Ty wasn’t too bothered in presenting his appearance, but once he’d hit sixteen, he’d stopped wearing old sweaters that seemed to engulf him, and started to brush his hair on a regular basis. Whenever she’d be out in the neighbourhood when Ty was around, there would be girls around every corner that would giggle and whisper, and boys that would let their eyes linger on his face and give appreciative glances.

Ty, of course, either remained oblivious or purposefully didn’t respond to these flirtations. Dru suspected, with a pair of sky blue eyes and fair hair in mind, that it was the latter.

Occasionally, Dru felt a little upstaged by Ty, for usually when she visited the mall she’d be the centre of attention. But no matter; there were still plenty of girls to flirt with and boys to smile at when he was at the Scholomance.

A timer went off somewhere in the kitchen, interrupting the welcoming, and Aline made a mad dash in to make sure nothing was burning.

“Come on in everyone, Aline’s made roast duck!” Helen said whilst ushering the family towards the doorway. “Speaking of which, Ty, what are they feeding you at that school? Nothing? You’re like a string bean!”

“Sometimes it tastes so bad, I wish it was nothing,” Ty muttered, and Dru snorted.

“So, brother dearest,” she said, linking her arm with Ty’s. “What’s going on at the Scholomance?”

Ty made a noncommittal sound. “Not a lot, at the moment. In the couple weeks before I left, it was practically deserted.”

“Oh!” He said, his eyes alighting with interest. “There is a project I’m working on that’s really interesting, it’s about the relation of Shadowhunters to animals and...”

Dru listened with intent, on what was actually quite an invigorating topic. She loved seeing him come alive like this, loved the Scholomance for his eagerness, even though it took her brother away for most of the year. Ty loved learning and discovering, which was what made it the perfect place to be for him.

“Food’s up!” Aline announced, as they took their seats. She placed several platters of deliciously steaming food in front of them, and Dru could practically hear everyone’s mouths watering.

“Ty-Ty!” Shrieked Faye, from her high chair. “Mommy! Ty’s back!”

“I know, sweetheart,” Helen said, heaping vegetables into Faye’s bowl, cutting them up and mixing them with meat and potato to disguise the fact that they were, “gross veggies”, as her daughter eloquently put it.

When Faye had been younger, she’d picked up on one of the family calling Ty the nickname that was used most by Livvy. She hadn’t stopped since, and rather than being unsettled by the memories it accompanied, he took to it and had once told Dru that he was reminded of a very young Livvy when Faye would say it.

Helen and Aline had found Faye as an infant when they’d been on an ambassadorial trip to faerie, representing the American sector of the new clave. She’d been wailing and sobbing and abandoned in between the roots of a tree on the path to the Unseelie Court, and Dru could recall the look on both of their faces when they spoke of finding her, and knowing that she was the one.

After asking Kieran, and around the kingdom to see if anyone had lost her, they found she had no home to go to, and were granted permission by the King to adopt her and raise her as their own.

She was a beautiful faerie child, with delicately pointed ears and dark skin, and eyes that were big and as dark as the night sky.

Everyone adored her, Helen and Aline most of all.

There was a general hubbub of noise as food was passed around and distributed onto everyone’s plates, which settled into conversations about Ty’s recent semester at the Scholomance and what was happening with his friends, which Dru interjected to ask one of his hot guy friends in the year below was still in attendance and if he could possibly visit, which Julian raised his eyebrows at, Dru giving him an innocent smile in response.

Tavvy spoke loudly about the battle of Cadiar Idris, of which he’d learnt about in his recent class with Diana and that all the adults nodded vigorously at, showing that they were all engaged and interested, despite having learnt it themselves.

“That’s not how Magnus tells that part,” Emma said, swallowing a mouthful of potato.

Tavvy sniffed, obviously put out by the interruption and the suggestion that his information wasn’t all correct. “Well, I learnt the  _factual_  version of the battle.”

“I hate to break it to you Tavs, but I think since Magnus was, you know, actually present, his version is most likely more factual than yours.” Julian said, a corner of his mouth twitching.

Tavvy folded his arms and sulked for the rest of the meal.

“That reminds me,” Helen said, with a crease between her eyebrows. “I need to ask Magnus about these strange attacks.”

“Strange attacks?” Ty said, a recognisable glint of interest in his eyes.

_Oh, Sherlock._

Dru winced at the automatic connection her mind made to a certain Watson, and squashed that memory down flat in her head.  _Focus on the present._

“Over the past few weeks,” Aline was saying. “Several gangs have been attacking Shadowhunters out on patrol. Only in America, so far. The last hit was Portland, so we’re worried they might pay us a visit next.”

“We can take them!” Tavvy said with a surprising ferociousness, as he stuffed duck into his mouth.

Helen’s lips quirked, but she and Aline looked worried.

“What sort of attackers are we looking at?” Dru asked, only having heard a few hushed conversations about them.

“We’re not sure,” Aline said. “They seem to be using some form of magic—not warlock, we’ve established—but some members seem to be wielding Nephilim blades.”

She said the last part of her sentence slightly hurried, with her lips strained. Dru put her fork down. The table was silent.

“What does that mean, Mommy?” Faye asked inquisitively, unaware of the sudden tension in the room.

“It means,” Helen said, after a brief pause, “that the Cohort has finally ventured outside of Idris.”

Dru looked at Ty, who looked back, his eyebrows furrowed together.

“If it’s some sort of magic that you need to identify,” Julian said quietly. “Why don’t we contact the Spiral Labyrinth?”

The Labyrinth, thankfully, was still secure and running, as there was no Shadowhunter interference even before the fallout. Most downworlders establishments were, as well as a few new ones—the new government was running smoothly and efficiently, thanks to Diego and Alec.

Aline brightened at that. “We had that idea, but then we thought—wouldn’t it just be easier to ask people like Magnus, Tessa and Jem? So we’ve invited them around for a research session in a few days.”

Another discussion broke out at that, Tavvy pestering to see if Rafael and Max could perhaps join Magnus on this trip, Emma and Julian excited at seeing them all again, and Faye kicking her legs back and forth and demanding loudly for pudding.

Only Dru noticed the sudden tension in Ty’s frame at the mention of Tessa and Jem, and his silence. She squeezed his arm as an act of comfort, understanding.

***

“Kit. Psst.”

He swam to consciousness sluggishly, uncomfortably. His eyes felt heavy, and his head— _god_ , his head  _ached_.

“Kit.”

Something poked his arm.

He groaned, a low sound that made his chest rumble, and he rolled over to face the disturbance. Kit blinked his eyes open, slowly, flinching at the light that spilled in through his bedroom door.

The disturbance turned out to be Willow, staring at him with dark almond-shaped eyes. She smirked at him.

“Bàba says you’re hun-go-ver,” she said, pronouncing the word carefully. “What does that mean?”

Kit opened his mouth to answer, cringing at the foul taste inside, but an amused voice at the door beat him to it.

“Don’t answer that,” Jem said, smiling, a silhouette in the soft daylight. Willow held her hands up, rocking back and forwards on the balls of her feet,  expecting to be picked up.

Jem did just that, swinging her around a bit and causing her to giggle. He tucked her legs around his chest, and nodded towards the door. “I’m not quite sure what Tessa’s making, but it looks delicious, if you’re feeling up to it.”

Kit stretched out in his bed, yawning. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Jem leaned forward and bent down to unstick a strand of hair that was in Kit’s mouth, a tender and parental gesture that rendered him with a pang in his chest. 

“I’ll fix you a hangover cure,” Jem called over his shoulder, as he hoisted Willow up and left the room.

Kit laughed under his breath, and swung his legs out of bed, his head feeling like it was stuffed with fluff and dizziness passing over him like momentary tv static.

He slung a pair of sweatpants on, and pulled on a t-shirt. Luckily, their house was centrally heated, which meant warm feet in the morning and a slow, pleasant way of waking up, unlike many English houses he knew.

On the way downstairs, still wincing at the light cutting occasional pin pricks of pain through his head. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, a delicious smell found its way to his nose and he sighed in contentment.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Tessa said, tossing a smile over her shoulder at him. Kit yawned out a “good morning” in response.

Tessa had her hair pinned up in a bun, and donned a flowered Cath Kidtson apron that she’d bought last week, while on the hunt for new clothes for Willow.

She was stirring something around in a frying pan on the Aga stove, that looked like a thick crepe. “What’s cooking?”

“It’s Kaiserschmarnn,” Tessa said, separating it into four portions and serving it onto plates. She dumped a spoonful of sugar over each plate, and passed one to each person at the table. “Like a sweet omelette.”

Willow had insisted on sitting at a ‘grown-up’ chair, in which she was now kneeling, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to reach the table. She stuffed a bunch in her mouth with a spoon, and smiled with her mouth full. “Yummy!”

“Mouth closed when you’re eating, Will,” Kit said, grinning mischievously as he surreptitiously tickled her side, causing her to yelp and giggle through a mouthful of food, and therefore spraying it all over her plate.

“Gross!” Kit said as he laughed, and wiped up stray eggy-pancake bits off the tablecloth. He noticed Tessa hide a fond smile behind her tea cup as she raised it for a sip. Willow stuck her tongue out at him, but not without playfulness.  

Kit speared some of the Kaiser-whatever on his fork and chewed thoughtfully. “What are the plans for today? I have some homework to do.”

He was attending the local secondary school, as Tessa and Jem felt it was important that he had a well-rounded view on the world and an education. Kit hadn’t minded at all when they’d suggested it to him on his arrival. School took his mind off of other things plaguing it, it gave him an opportunity to make more friends that were his age, and he enjoyed it on the whole.

He took A-levels, he had daily tutoring sessions with Jem on training to be a Shadowhunter—Kit liked the physical lessons more than the theory—he partied with his mundane friends, who didn’t know about his strange double-life, he was a big brother to Willow, and was generally happy.

“Are you sure you’re up for it after last night?” Tessa teased, and Kit had the grace to look a little embarrassed. He couldn’t even remember what had happened for most of the party—he was pretty sure he’d made out with at least three people, spurred on by drunkenness, and the bright haze of it all had abruptly ended when he had run outside onto Moira Hitchen’s porch and thrown up.

“I’ll be fine,” Kit said. “Nothing coffee won’t fix.”

Jem folded his newspaper up and put it to one side. “I believe that we may have to miss our session today, Kit, because Tessa and I will be out for half of the day.”

“That’s okay. Do I still have magic practice?”

Ah. There was the extraordinary part, of his already impressively out of the ordinary life.

“Yes, I think we can squeeze that in before we leave,” Tessa said, glancing at Jem to confirm. “You’ll need to babysit Willow, of course.”

“Yes!” Willow stood up in her seat and jumped up and down. Jem laughed and held out his hand for her to hold onto as she did a victory dance. “Kit! Kit! Can we watch Ben and Holly?”

“Absolutely!” He said, enthusiastically, while sighing internally, resigning himself to watching another episode of magical elves and fairies.

They finished breakfast up, and Kit began washing up the plates and frying pan. Tessa and Jem were talking quietly by the fridge, in a sort of urgent tone to one another. Willow was busy making her stuffed animals walk the runway in the living room, and Kit saw an opportunity. If they hadn’t mentioned where they were headed in front of Willow, the cause was probably serious.

“Where are you guys headed?” He asked, snapping the washing up gloves off and hanging them on the sink head. Tessa and Jem shared a meaningful look with one another before answering.

“There’s been a few connected attacks on Shadowhunters in America,” Jem started. “The latest in Oregon. We’ve been called in, along with a few others, to help investigate. At the Los Angeles Institute,” he added.

***

_“I thought you cared, but you lied to me. Just like everyone else.”_

_“You only thought of yourself. I wish— I wish I’d never known you—”_  
  
“Wait! What are you doing?”

 _“Kit, come up here—you can see everything.”_  
  
Kit clenched his fists at the unwelcome appearance of memories, shaking his head roughly as if he could banish them by doing so.

He thought he’d banished them, with the exception of insomniac nights where they’d enter his mind, whispering up the back of his neck and under his closed eyes. Kit could still see the tears threatening to spill from Ty’s eyes—

“Clear your mind,” Tessa said gently, from behind him. “Leave your thoughts behind.”

To others, it may have seemed like she had misinterpreted his frustration as not being able to complete the task in front of him. It was partially that—but Tessa knew him too well and had an uncanny knack for sensing what was bothering him.

A mother’s instinct, he supposed, an emotion too large to be named filling him.

He opened his eyes, focusing on the apple in front of him. Kit could picture it in his mind: the red, glossiness of the surface folding over, gradually changing to a rough orange, the crisp interior morphing into something sweet, soft and juicy.

His forehead broke out in a sweat as he concentrated, grimacing at the amount of effort he was putting into it—

There was no sound as it changed, which was what made it odd and different to Tessa’s warlock magic. It simply— _became_.

“Excellent, Kit,” Tessa sounded delighted. “You’re really starting to get the hang of this.”

He wiped his sweaty forehead and let out a breath. “I wish I could do it quicker, though. Levitating and telekinesis was so much easier than this.”

“It’s difficult magic,” Tessa walked around him, and joined him in sitting on the grass, facing him. “I couldn’t do it until the fifth try. There’s something about your inheritance, the faerie magic inside of you, that makes it easier for you. I think,” she said, pausing to frown and think.

Sometimes Kit forgot that she was almost as clueless as he was, on to what extent he could go to with his magic.

“Weird,” seemed the appropriate response to this, and she laughed lightly. He grinned, pleased that he could make her laugh genuinely like that.

Tessa reached forward and plucked the orange from the grass, examining it closely. She seemed satisfied by his work, and set it to one side, not quite looking at him as she asked him, “Is there something on your mind?”

Kit sighed, resting his head in one hand and picking at the grass with the other. “How did you guess?”

“I’ve raised teenagers before, Kit,” Tessa said with an amused raise of her eyebrow. “It’s about us leaving to go to the Los Angeles Institute, right?”

He didn’t reply; only plucked a daisy from the many dotted around the slightly dew-soaked grass and plucked off some of the petals. Ironically, and annoyingly, he was reminded of a game he’d play when he was younger, where he’d pick petals off and ask if his crush liked him or not.

Irritated, he dropped the daisy.

“I guess,” he said to Tessa. “I feel kind of,” he gesticulated meaninglessly with his hands. “About it. About everyone there.”

“About everyone? Or just a particular person.”

He jerked his head up and narrowed his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Kit asked, knowing exactly what she meant.

Tessa tried and failed to look inconspicuous. “Well, I just noticed that you seemed particularly upset whenever we would mention Ty, and I just thought you might—miss him more than the others. If you catch my drift.”

Kit felt heat flush up his neck towards his face, and he spluttered. “W-what? I—um—it’s not like that!”

She held her hands up in surrender, lips quirking into a small smile. “Alright! I just assumed since…”

“No—uh… no.”

“Hm.” Tessa didn’t sound convinced. “Okay.”

“Anyway,” Kit said hastily, “It’s mostly just… guilt for leaving them. I never said goodbye, and I’ve spent every day since regretting it.”

“I had some sort of messed up logic that it would hurt us both less,” he continued. “That if I split and ran—they’d forget me quicker.”

After several sleepless nights, wondering why he felt choked with guilt and grief, he finally figured out that it was possibly the stupidest decision he’d made, hurting and confusing everyone at the Institute. But by that time, the damage was done, in Kit’s mind. There was no way he could pitch up and expect warm welcomes all around, especially since he was sure Ty hated him.

That’s what hurt the most.

“There’s always a chance to fix it,” Tessa said, benevolently. “You could always come with us.”

Kit turned the thought over in his head, considering. Emma would probably act as if he’d never left—and Julian too, although he’d ask him in a fatherly way later on if everything was alright. Mark, Cristina and Kieran he wasn’t too worried about, and they were most likely off somewhere together, and Tavvy was too young to be deeply affected by a boy he’d barely known for a month leaving. Dru… would be trickier. If she was still the same, she’d be rightly pissed off.

And Ty… if he was there…

“No,” Kit said, abruptly, and looked up into Tessa’s grey eyes. “No, thank you.”

Tessa nodded, and stood up to leave, not before tucking a lock of loose hair behind his ear. His heart ached at the gesture. “Think on it.”

Kit did. He tried not to, tried to focus on maths equations and business models, but in vain. Words swam around in his head, forcing him to put his pen down and confront his problems.

_“I wish— I wish I’d never known you—”_

He groaned aloud, pressing the palms of his hands onto his closed eyes. “ _Why_ am I such an  _idiot_?”

“I know, right!” Willow chimed in, from the couch in the living room.

Kit glared at her; she smiled sweetly back. “Not now, Willow. I’m in the middle of a crisis.”

“Is it about that boy you like?” Her attention wasn’t on him at all, she was solely focused on Peppa Pig.

“What?!”

“The one Mummy talked about. The one who goes to the Schol—Scholo—”

“Why does everyone keep insinuating that I like Ty!” Kit exclaimed, red in the face.

Willow rolled her eyes, gnawing at her thumb. “You do. Your voice is squeaky.”

He let out a noise of frustration. As if! Ty was just an ex-very close friend. It was unthinkable—Kit didn’t pine after him… or have him on his mind… or think of him romantically at all! There was a point at which he would’ve considered becoming parabatai with him, and unless you were Emma and Julian, that was a pretty big no-go for anything in the romance department.

_Then why did you change your mind?_

Kit cast his mind back to the boys and girls he’d dated, or at least crushed on at one point or another after leaving. If he had been crushing on Ty, how was it possible for him to move on like that?

He was smug in this particularly strong aspect of his internal argument, until he realised what all the hookups, crushes and dates had in common. Now that he thought about it, they were all either intellectual, or had black hair, or had grey eyes, or were good with animals, or were sweet and smart and kind—

“Oh,  _God_.” Kit said, despairingly. “I have a  _crush_ on  _Ty Blackthorn_.”

“Finally!” Willow threw her arms up in the air in exasperation.

***

Another loud boom shook the Institute, making Dru and Ty grab onto the staircase handle for balance. She rolled her eyes. Wasn’t there a less destructive mode of transportation that people could use?

“They’re here!” Tavvy shouted from where he was positioned, just outside the main entryway of the Institute.

Ty blew a piece of hair out his eyes. “I think we knew that already, Tavs.”

Emma barrelled past Tavvy, almost knocking him over. “Jem!” She cried, and ran in the direction of where the sound had originated.

A second portal opened somewhere else outside, and Dru almost tripped this time, but caught herself before she could face-plant.

“You’d think portals would be more stealthy,” Ty sighed, as they made their way outside.

Dru nodded her head, exasperated. “Agreed.”

The sun was lower in the sky now, even though the day was still fairly new. Well, new to Dru. Maybe not for the morning people of the Institute; she would not be woken at any point before nine in the morning.

Tessa Gray and Jem Carstairs were greeting Emma, on a space of grass near to the cliffs. Jem looked as dignified as ever, but there was something in the slightly rumpled state of his hair, or the shadows under his eyes that said  _Dad_  to her. Tessa had always had a motherly sort of aura about her, but it seemed more prominent now.

She exhaled disappointedly when she saw that they weren’t accompanied by anyone, and she knew that Ty had been thrumming with tension until he saw the absence of one sarcastic, blonde Herondale that wasn’t Jace.

What had she been expecting? Dru was suddenly angry, angry at herself for expecting something that wouldn’t be delivered, angry at the circumstances which had left her brother sadder and quieter, but most of all, angry at Kit for leaving.

It wasn’t fair. Dru wasn’t sure of what had happened between them—she hadn’t brought the subject up with Ty because of a) awkwardness, b) awkwardness and c) potential sadness—but she knew it must have been pretty bad. One minute they were palling around with one another, getting ready to raise Livvy from the dead, and then next thing she knew Kit had left without saying goodbye, and Ty wouldn’t mention him at all.

The second portal had been opened by Magnus, and he stepped out, wearing deep high waisted slacks paired with a red button up shirt, short sleeves rolled up to mid bicep and halfway unbuttoned. A pearl belt hung off his waist, a gold earring dangled from one of his ears, and dark circular sunglasses were resting on the tip of his nose, revealing the fascinating colour of his cats eyes. His two sons, Rafael and Max, walked through with him, and shouted when they saw Tavvy, running over to greet him.

“So this is where the party’s at?” Magnus asked, grinning around at the congregation that had gathered, the others having joined them. He moved to pluck the sun glasses from his face and tucked them in the pocket of his shirt, rings catching the morning light.

“If by party, you mean a research party to stop conspiracy attacks, then yes.” Quipped Ty, who had formed some sort of connection with Magnus, after their conversation about Livvy’s ghost and Kit’s leaving. Magnus winked at him.

“I have a theory about the Cohort and the attacks,” Tessa said, slowly. “But I think it can wait until we’re inside. Catarina should be joining us later on, she was held up at the Scholomance.”

They all made to go inside, turning to face the Institute, when a high, breathy laugh made them all jolt and turn to the origin of the noise.

Three figures cloaked in black stood on the cliff edge, their faces covered and hoods up, so it was impossible to tell who—or what, they were.

“There may not be a party right now, warlock,” said the middle figure, who sounded feminine. “But when we’re finished with you, you’re sure to be wrecked.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Aline said, frowning, and only those close to her would know that she was on guard. The skin around her mouth and eyebrows tightened fractionally.

“The attackers,” Tessa murmured, eyes widening in panic. “It’s them.”

“That’s right, girlie,” sneered the one on the left. The middle figure hissed something at them.

Emma stepped forward. “Who are you, really? What do you want?”

“What do we  _want_?” The left one asked, menacingly, whilst drawing dual seraph blades from their back. Everyone tensed, Emma drawing Cortana, the others placing hands on the weapons they had on them, which were frustratingly  sparse, as they hadn’t been preparing for a fight. “We want the end to the outliers. The impure.”

Tessa may have been right about the Cohort, Dru thought with a sinking feeling, until one of them drew a silver faerie blade, and the other raised their hand, harsh light glowing on their palm, unlike any warlock magic Dru had seen.

“What?” Jem muttered, confusedly, as he picked a small thin blade from his belt, gripping it tightly.

Dru couldn’t see their faces, but knew that they were smiling. She felt a sudden prick of fear, remembering the boys, but, looking back, she discovered that they had disappeared inside, from what it looked like, well before these people had appeared.

Ty drew his long seraph blade, whispering an angel name to it so it lit up, and nodded at her. Dru took the knives out of her belt, and stepped into a fighting stance.

***

The battle took them by surprise. It was stillness, tension in the air, and then everywhere at once.

It should’ve been easy. But the way in which they fought was unlike any training Dru had ever seen before, and the one that used magic seemed to be unable to be knocked down.

Magnus and Tessa were duelling with them, lightning crackling in both of their palms, the magic jagged, rough edged and battle-ready. It was a direct contrast to the soft light that would usually emit from their hands when doing mundane magic tasks, and thrilling to watch.

The hooded figure, though, had a complete different style to their warlock sparks. It was an intense light, but an almost transparent green, that moved through the air like a current, but hit deceptively powerfully. Magnus and Tessa, from the looks of things, were having difficulty in manoeuvring around it. Their hands were whipping and snapping to each side, but none of their hits landed.

The other two fighters were skilled in battle, sneaking in dirty moves with a flick of their wrist

to catch them off guard. Emma and Julian, though no longer parabatai, were working in perfect synchrony, along with Aline, in taking down the one with the fae blade. Their swords clanged, and Cortana glinted in the sun like the sun over the sea.

It was staggering, the fact that the individual was so swift and quick with their blade that it was three on one. What was even more shocking was that Dru, Ty, Helen and Jem were battling what seemed to be a Shadowhunter—and by some chance,  _losing_  against them.

Dru and Ty were side by side, and in moments like these, Dru could see why people desperately wanted a parabatai. There were seconds where her and Ty seemed to be on the same wavelength, blades slicing through the air in unison, and Dru could  _taste_  how satisfying the lack of friction was.

Her euphoria was short-lived, as the fighter disarmed Jem first, sending a wave of panic down her throat. There was no wonder that these attacks had been so successful; some of the greatest fighters she knew were on this battlefield. What was  _happening_?

Dru spared a second to glance around; Tessa and Magnus still seemed to be struggling, even more so, and Julian and Aline had been disarmed and were scrabbling in the ground for their weapons as Emma frantically slashed Cortana in short sequences around the fae fighter.

That one second was too long, and she ended up flat on her back without knowing how she’d gotten there. The breath winded out of her, she struggled to sit up, and with horror, watched as the fighter sliced a cut across Ty’s cheek.

She burned in rage, and was halfway to her feet when a huge blast of magic emitted from the person attacking Tessa and Magnus, knocking them to the ground.

Her heart was in her throat. How was that possible?

“Look to your elders!” The fighter shouted, one hand punched in the air, the other pointing to Tessa and Magnus, who were stumbling in the effort of standing up, clearly affected with whatever they had been hit with. The words echoed across the cliffs.

The magic-wielder’s face turned towards the rest of them, who had frozen in shock at the sight of the two most experienced warlocks in the world, defeated.

“If it’s all the same to you,” they said, addressing them all, “I’m becoming rather bored. Let’s end this, shall we?”

They raised both of their hands above their head, and stood, starkly silhouetted against the sea and sky.

For a moment, everything was still.

Then she heard it: the distant sound of waves, of water sloshing together.

They all stared in absolute horror as a gargantuan wall of water crept up into the sky, matching the magic wielder’s arms. They were now trembling slightly, and translucent balls of green magic were wrapped around each of their hands.

The water rose in one huge sheet, a monstrosity but a marvel. Dru could see the sun sparkling through it, the light catching at different points and highlighting all the different angles of the water, glinting off the scales of fish who were swimming as if nothing was wrong.

It gathered at the top, bunching together in the crude imitation of a tsunami wave, something that would’ve brought a quick to her lips, if she hadn’t been completely terrified. The water slowly started to dip towards them, and she glanced at Tessa and Magnus, breath coming short.

They were pushing back against the air with what looked like a tremendous amount of force, trying to push the wave back, the magic surrounding their hands liquid like and spinning fast.

“It’s not working!” Magnus yelled, over the sound of tons of galleons of water sloshing together. “ _Fuck_! I think our magic won’t work against theirs!”

Dru glanced at Ty, allowing her fear to show on her face. He looked back, and she saw her emotions reflected in his expression.

“Whatever happens,” he said, reaching out to clutch her hand. “Don’t let go.”

The water was swirling faster, the attacker’s hands shaking, the enormous wave ready to tip and break towards them, wiping them out. Magnus and Tessa had lowered their hands, terror in their faces.

Dru could see her life on a countdown.

She grabbed Ty, her hands going around him, the tension in their embrace tighter than the tension in the water threatening to fall. His arms came around her, mirroring her pressure.

“I love you,” she said, shakily, muffled, into his shoulder. “I love you, I love you.”

Ty’s arms gripped her tighter, and she closed her eyes, hearing the water break the barrier.

Nothing happened.  

Was she dead?

Dru peeled her eyes open. She was still holding onto Ty, who released her, looking confused. He looked to where the water was being held still, about five meters away from them, and then to the attacker, and his expression turned to one of absolute shock. Dru followed his gaze, and her mouth dropped open.

There was someone standing, with their back to them, in the curve of the water—the point between the wall and the top of the wave. They had their hand raised into the the air, the same as the enemy, but only a single arm was up in the air.

Magic was in the strange bubble around their hand too, the exact same as the hostility, again. But the translucent energy was a bright white, and the person was wearing—Shadowhunter gear?

The wave began to move, and she flinched. But it was traveling away from them, slowly but surely. It was almost as if the time space around the water was moving backwards, like a time warp video. Dru could see the fish swimming, the water flowing in the shape that it was in, but instead of a threat, it looked… beautiful.

It finally straightened into a wall of water again, and the figure brought it down, and it fell into the ocean with a staggering  _crash_  that shook the cliff side. Sea spittle flecked her face, but she didn’t even notice—Dru only had eyes for the standoff that was occurring.

The two magicians regarded each other. Dru could see seraph blades hanging off their saviour’s belt, and their— _his_  hair was ruffled and blonde.

“What are you?” Hissed the hostility. They didn’t bother to raise their hand in attempt to fight; there was something about this person that radiated power in this moment.

The Shadowhunter dropped his hand. “Somebody you should be afraid of.”

And Dru tensed, because she knew exactly who that voice belonged to. It had been four years, his voice was a little deeper, but it was uncanny.

The two other dark figures looked at their magician, and nodded. In the next moment—they had disappeared. There was nothing ostentatious about this show of magic, one minute they were present, and the next they were simply—not.

Their rescuer staggered backwards, and that was when Dru knew it had taken an extraordinary amount of effort into restraining a force such a water, which longed and begged to be free.

He turned around, wobbling, as if he were drunk, and Kit  _fucking_  Herondale gave them a dopey smile. “Hey.”

And then he toppled backwards onto the ground, unconscious.

***

Kit couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this tired. His eyes felt like they were glued together, his head like cotton and his limbs could’ve been stone, they were so heavy.

He heard vague murmurs of conversation in his dream—or was it real life? There was some sort of soft surface beneath him, probably a bed, and a cushion that felt paper thin beneath his throbbing head. His hands felt like they had been stretched and worked to their limit, they ached so.

Where was he? The last thing he could recall was attempting to open a portal, and then… water?

“He’s just exhausted himself,” he heard a feminine voice say, lowly. What was Tessa doing here?

Oh right, the attacks. Which… he had stopped. Ah,  _that’s_  why he had passed out.

“I should imagine so,” a deeper voice said. “That was quite a feat of magic. Have you been teaching him?”

“Yes. I knew of his potential, but this was just… extraordinary.”

There were footsteps, and the voices faded into the distance. He heard the door swing shut. Kit was about to open his eyes and stretch, when another voice spoke and made him tense.

“I didn’t know part faeries could posses such powerful magic.”

 _Ty_.

He thought Ty was addressing him, until someone else in the room replied.

“Didn’t Tessa say he was like, The First Heir though?”

“I suppose.”

There was a pregnant pause, in which Kit began to feel more awake. Dru and Ty sounded so different from his memory of them, but maybe he had distorted Ty’s from the constant repetition of his last words to Kit.

“Do you think that’s why he left?”

That was Dru asking, hesitantly. Kit tried not to change his breathing, or shift around in any way that might alert them to the fact that he was awake. Which would be... incredibly awkward.

“I don’t know. I thought he left because—because he hated me.”

_No!_

_“What?”_

“He said to me that he wished he’d never met me. It was called for—I was behaving out of line.”

It was my fault, Kit thought desperately. Not yours.

There was a deep, frustrated sigh, that sounded like Dru. “Ty, I don’t want to be mean, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean that. He would literally follow you around everywhere. That wouldn’t have been changed by whatever you did.”

“I tried to raise—her.”

“Oh, Ty.”

They wouldn’t say Livvy’s name. It didn’t sound like they’d spoken explicitly about the events that occurred, which Kit could understand.

“Look, people can say and do stupid things,” Dru said, reasoning with him. “That doesn’t mean they’re defined by their mistakes. You’re not defined by what you did with—Livvy.”

Her name was a dip in the road, a bump in the middle of a smooth surface of Dru’s sentence.

“I mean, I’m angry at him for leaving,” she continued, and Kit grimaced internally. “But I think we should give him a chance to explain. He doesn’t hate you, I’m sure. No one could.”

Kit could hear the smile in Ty’s voice as he spoke, and longed to see it. Ty’s smile was something to behold. “Okay.”

“In the meantime, I’m going to go and play with their little kid. Tessa was pretty frightening when she found out Kit had left her with one of his friends.”

_Great._

Dru’s footsteps echoed down what he assumed was he infirmary corridor, and he cracked his eyelid open a sliver. Ty’s blurry outline moved off of the opposite bed to him, and made for the door.

“Wait,” he said, his voice rough from sleep. Ty froze, but didn’t turn his head.

“Kit,” he said.

He swallowed. “Hey.”

“You’ve already said that,” Ty sounded faintly amused, and turned to face him.

Kit may or may not have made a strangled noise in his throat.

Four years had made Ty grow into himself, sharpening all his edges and made him stand more confidently, even in this sort of situation.

He was—tall, and his shoulders were muscular and broad beneath his long-sleeves shirt, which also made the muscles in his arms more pronounced. Ty’s hair was a little longer, more tousled, and his face was, in the dim light of the infirmary, that of a statue, sculpted and smooth.

His eyes were the same, though. Grey and sparkling, not making direct eye contact, but looking at a point just below. Kit felt reassured.

“You look,” Kit cleared his throat. “Nice.”

“I could say the same for you,” Ty replied. He couldn’t distinguish what Ty was feeling by his voice, it was too conversational.

There was a silence. Kit felt like he was radiating awkwardness.

“So—”

“How did you get from England to Los Angeles that fast?”

They had both spoken at the same time, but Ty’s question overran Kit’s feeble attempt at conversing.

“Oh,” he said, surprised. “I opened a portal.”

“You can do that?”

“Well, yeah. I’m—” he waved his hands in the air, stupidly. “Magic.”

It hadn’t been much of a decision to make. Tessa and Jem had left, and he’d had an epiphany about his feelings for Ty. Impulsively, knowing he’d regret this later, he’d rung up one of the neighbours to look after Willow for a few hours while he ‘ran errands’, had dashed outside, to somewhere where he wasn’t visible, and created a portal to just behind the Institute.

His portals were different to warlock ones, they were quiet, like all faerie magic, and like a doorway into another room, except without the door, and a faint glow around the rectangular space he could see his destination through.

What he’d seen though, had made him snap his fingers and summon his gear and weapons, for the others were under attack and were about to be killed by a massive tidal wave.

He hadn’t thought, just ran.

Kit could remember the pain it had caused him to hold that amount of mass up, but also the power that had flown through his veins, thrumming. He’d felt invincible. And had then promptly fainted.

“I still don’t quite understand how you suddenly have magic, though.” Ty said, his eyebrows furrowed like they would when he was trying to figure a problem out.

 _Sherlock_ , Kit thought, amusedly.

“When—when Emma and Julian turned into those giant thingys,” Kit said, avoiding mentioning anything to do with them, Livvy, Livvy’s odd ghost—who Kit could see at the end of the corridor—and his leaving.

“Nephilim,” Ty supplied.

“Yeah, that,” he continued. “I was about to be struck down by the Riders of Mannan, and Emma too, but then one of them mentioned my mother, and something about the First Heir. They said,” he scratched at a spot behind his ear uncomfortably. “They said they had killed her.”

Ty didn’t say anything, willing Kit to continue his story.

“So I basically got really mad and then blasted them to who knows where with weird light magic in my palms,” Kit said, attempting to lighten the mood. “And turns out I’m descended from the Unseelie King’s—not Kieran, his father—his first daughter, who was like, really magic,” he finished, lamely.

“Oh, and descended from Tobias Herondale. My Mom was a Herondale.” He added.

Again, there was a silence.

“Is that why you left?”

It wasn’t as if Kit hadn’t been expecting the question, but it caught him off guard anyway and he jolted, from where he was sitting. His hands and fingers twisted together.

“Kind of. I—”

“Did you mean what you said? Before you left?”

There was naked vulnerability in Ty’s voice, that made Kit’s heart hurt.

“No! No, Ty, you have to listen to me—”

“I don’t  _have_  to do anything.” His voice was colder, but only slightly. Ty’s eyes were now trained on the floor. Kit mentally kicked himself.

“Alright,” Kit said, taking a deep breath. “That’s fair. I deserve that. But I really would like to explain myself, not for me—but for you.”

Ty was silent for a moment, his arms perfectly still by his sides. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Kit said, steeling himself. “After I—said that stuff to you, I felt really, really terrible. And I’m so sorry, Ty, I’m so sorry. I was just… tired and angry, I guess. I was frustrated that we didn’t accomplish anything but relieved that we did—I don’t know. It was something that I was fixated on for so long, and I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t tell you and—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I understand,” Ty said, after a moment. “I know we were all mixed up. I regret a lot of what I said and did as well, influenced by grief.”

He cast a glance over to where Livvy’s ghost was hovering, in the hallway.

“We’re not influenced by our mistakes,” Kit said, absently, staring at her too.

Ty’s head snapped towards him, and for the first time, looked him directly in the eyes. “You were eavesdropping?”

Kit flushed guiltily, opening his mouth to speak, but words failing him. “I—”

Ty’s expression sharpened in anger, and he turned on his heel quickly, and left the room, footsteps fast. Livvy’s ghost wafted to the side with the force of his speed, and followed after.

“Wait!” Kit called after him, throwing the coverlet off. “Shit—Fuck, Shit—”

His first few steps were wobbly, after disuse, but he cursed in irritation and ran after Ty anyways.

Kit wasn’t leaving, not this time.

He sprinted down the Institute, rounding a corner and slamming directly into Dru. She made an  _oof_  sound when they collided, but then stepped away and narrowed her eyes.

“Sorry,” Kit said, more frantically than he’d like to have sounded.

“You better fix this,” she shouted after him, for he was already running in the direction of the stairs, where he’d just seen a flash of black hair.

“I will!” He yelled over his shoulder.

Kit tumbled down the stone stairs, and threw the double doors open, having been slammed shut by Ty. He jogged outside, casting his head around—it was night time now, how long had he been out?—to see where he’d disappeared, and had to pause, because he couldn’t see Ty.

Kit thought, hard. Where would he go?

And then he remembered where he’d seen Ty last, throwing his phone away, rolling his dress pants up to his knees so as not get wet.

Kit’s legs were running before his mind caught up with him, and he hopped down the staircase carved out of rock that lead down to the beach. He could see Ty now, a dark silhouette against the white sand.

“Ty,” he panted, racing up behind him. “Ty, I need to explain.”

“I think I’ve heard enough explaining from you,” Ty said, his voice trembling.

Kit stopped, feeling he needed to halt and think instead of relying on impulsiveness.

“You’re right,” he said softly. “I’m an idiot Ty, but me being an idiot has hurt you, and that’s the last thing I want. Please, please give me one more chance to explain myself.”

He reached out and lightly placed his hand on Ty’s shoulder, and Ty started but didn’t move to take it off, which Kit took as a good sign.

Ty turned around, and Kit was suddenly very aware of how close the proximity between them was. He pushed that thought aside for now, forcing himself to speak.

“I eavesdropped because I thought it would be awkward to intervene while you and Dru were… discussing things,” he said, lowering his eyes, ashamedly. “I’m sorry.”

“But I’m most sorry for leaving you,” he looked up into Ty’s steely eyes, which were wide and had softened. “It was stupid, impulsive and something I didn’t think through. I thought you must have hated me, and I was too embarrassed to stay and live with that. I know now that it was super dumb, and that living with your mistakes is the easiest way to learn from them and leave them behind.”

Ty’s lips had curved into a smile; Kit had to look away. He really was absurdly tall, he thought, as he looked up at Ty.

“Thank you,” Ty said, as quietly as Kit’s voice had been. “For telling me the truth. I feel like I owe you an apology too, for dragging you along in my crazed quest.”

“It’s fine,” Kit said, laughing under his breath. “I forgive you. I’m just happy to see you again.”

The tips of his ears turned red as soon as he’d said that, and Ty looked surprised.

“That was—weird of me to say, sorry,” he added hurriedly, and began to take his hand off Ty’s shoulder. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had he assumed—?

Ty took his hand, though, and put it back on his shoulder, his weight shifting from leg to leg nervously. “It wasn’t.”

Kit gaped at him, and Ty hunched his shoulders. “I’ve been wanting to see you again, ever since you left. I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how much I’m studying, or working, or doing anything else.”

He couldn’t believe that this was happening.

“I—I feel the same,” Kit stammered. “You—ah, this is going to sound so weird.”

“You were always in my head when I couldn’t get to sleep,” Kit murmured, looking down. “I kept thinking of how I’d hurt you, and how I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“I’m the opposite of hurt right now, Kit,” Ty said, wearing that amazing smile that lit up the night.

Kit tentatively raised his other hand and placed it on Ty’s other shoulder, so that they were both on his shoulders, and they were standing closer than ever.

He could see a constellation of incredibly light freckles dotted across of Ty’s nose, and all the different shades of silver and grey in his eyes. Ty blinked, and his long, dark eyelashes fluttered.

“I really like you, Ty Blackthorn,” Kit whispered, afraid to disrupt this moment with any noise. Ty placed his hands on Kit’s waist, and they both started when he did, for it felt like an electric charge between them.

Ty exhaled, and Kit could feel it fan his eyelashes. “I really like you too, Kit Herondale.”

Their faces were very close.

“Is this really happening?” He asked Ty, his eyes half-shut.

“I really hope so. It seems too good to be true,” Kit heard him murmur before Ty leaned his head forward and touched Kit’s lips with his own.

His mind blanked. How had anything existed before this?

It was a small, chaste kiss that didn’t last more than a few seconds, but Kit still felt dazed afterwards.

They separated, but only fractionally, so that Ty’s face looked blurry and soft-edged, they were so close.

“Hey,” Kit said.

“Hey,” Ty breathed, scrunching his nose up in quiet laughter.

 _Well now I just_ have  _to kiss him again_ , Kit thought to himself, before winding his arms together around the back of his neck and pressing their lips together once more.

The waves lapped gently against the shore. The night was perfect, and still, with the exception of the two boys standing on the shore, their arms tightening around each other as they kissed.

***

“Is Kit alright?” Catarina asked, her blue face slightly worried. He’d just blown past the kitchen entrance, and out of the Institute, looking slapdash and a little all over the place.

She’d arrived after he’d fainted in the middle of the battlefield, which had nearly given Jem and Tessa a heart attack.

They’d been given another near-heart attack when they discovered that Willow had been left in the care of their semi-unreliable neighbour, one of Kit’s friends. But if he hadn’t, they’d most likely be dead by now, a thought which caused Tessa to shiver.

“Trust me,” she said, drawing back the soft curtain of the kitchen windows, peeking outside and looking down at the beach, where two figures stood close together. “He’ll be fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> yell at me on [tumblr!!](https://catarinalosss.tumblr.com)


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